In today's episode of wasting time online creatively...

And now, I am proud to present...

MYSELF IN SUPERHERO GUISE!


Yeah...buff. Tanned. That's me all right.

Courtesy of The Hero Factory.

Freedom to Read Week, Feb. 22-28

For those not in the know, this week, February 22-28, is the 25th National Freedom to Read Week.

I'm not going to bother espousing to any great length on the importance of such a week (but please consider reading Steven Beattie's well-argued consideration), but I would like to point out my personal feelings on the matter.

This is a matter of major importance. It is all fine and good to not want to read a book. It is even acceptable to wish that others would not read certain books. I, if given the power, would gladly put the torch to every Tim LaHaye, every Ann Coulter, every James Patterson, Kevin Trudeau, Mitch Albom and Sean Hannity.

However, I don't, and while I have the right to tell others I wish they really wouldn't bother with such blather, I don't have to the right to demand that others stop.

When someone tells you that you cannot read something, they are telling you that you are incapable of rational thought. That you cannot form an opinion of your own. That you cannot be trusted.

I have read many, many books that others have said, in so many words, were harmful. I'm pretty okay. I'm actually the better for having read them.

No one has the right the stop you from reading, from thinking for yourself. Don't let them think they do. Fight them. Rise up against ignorance. You'll be the better person for it. Society will be better for it.

Also, if you'd like to argue that my novel be banned and censored, please do so. I could use the sales.

Quickie reviews - Hazelgrove, Doctorow, Disch

I've been thinking of mayhap giving this irregularly-occurring section of this blog its own title. "Quickie Reviews" seems a trifle...unconsidered and hasty, too on the nose. How about "Monkey Droppings"? Or "Monkey Musings"? "Baboon Blatherings"? "Ape Poopie"? "Rhesus' Pieces"?

Enough of this nonsense. Monkey Droppings it is!

Rocket Man
by William Elliot Hazelgrove

By all accounts, Rocket Man is a novel I should immediately fall in love with. Its author is critically-acclaimed, but hardly a brand name. Its main protagonist is an author, a subgenre I always find interesting. Its style is tidy, and its humour ranges from the wildly broad to the calmly subtle. But Rocket Man finds an author misfiring on some of his cylinders. The overall result doesn't go haywire and explode; rather, it coasts to a gentle stop, and stays there.

Dale Hammer is a man with many problems. His writing has dried up, leaving him forced to work as a real estate agent to make ends meet. His son dislikes him. His father just moved in with him. His wife is just about fed up, and he has been accused of destroying the welcome signs in his subdivision. His life is unravelling at a furious pace, and the end of the thread is in sight.

This should be a successful book. Hammer is an engaging protagonist, rather unlikeable yet fully relatable, and the prose is uncluttered and often memorable. But the satire never engages, and as Hammer's world becomes worse and worse, the tale becomes repetitive and shrill. The ultimate finale, whereby all loose ends are tied up and Hammer's world is briefly stable, reaches for a feel-good ending it cannot sustain. Rocket Man flirts with greatness, but like its protagonist, cannot finally pull itself together.

Grade: B-

Little Brother
by Cory Doctorow

Cory Doctorow has become one of my favourite sci-fi authors of late. He's not a gifted prose stylist, but his tales are full of terrific characters, superb plotlines, and interesting themes. His novel Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town is my favourite sci-fi/fantasy/magical realism book of the past five years. Little Brother is his first novel written for the young-adult audience, and it is a winner in every sense of the word.

Marcus Yallow is a teenager in San Francisco with the usual assortment of interests; his friends, his freedom, and all things technobabble. All three interests get a severe workout after a devestating terrorist attack which leaves thousands dead, freedoms reigned in, and Marcus a terrorism suspect under the considerable (and dangerously uncontrolled) scrutiny of Homeland Security.

Given that this is aimed at a young adult novel, there's not a terrific degree of subtlety in Doctorow's approach, but how could you tell such a tale set in today's political climate otherwise. The age of irony may not have died, but the age of metaphor and analogy has certainly taken some body blows. But it hardly matters, as Little Brother is a great, intriguing read, full of interesting characters, insightful social commentary, and more technical mumbo-jumbo (to me, anyway) than you could shake an Xbox at. It may not be subtle, but for teenagers who are just beginning to understand the concept of freedom - and how easily such freedom can be taken away under the guise of the greater good - this is required reading.

Grade: A

The Wall of America
by Thomas M. Disch

In July of 2008, we lost one of the true greats of the science-fiction genre. Thomas M. Disch, award-winning author of more than 50 works of fiction and non-fiction, committed suicide. It was a great blow to the community, and the literary world, as right up to the end, Disch was delivering some of his best works (although this should not dissuade you from seeking out his earlier efforts; his debut novel The Genocides is one of the most original 'end-of-the-human-race' sagas I've ever read). And there is likely no better introduction to the vastness of his talent than his posthumously-released short story collection The Wall of America.

The collection truly captures his range as a writer. The lovely, strange satire "The Man Who Read a Book" is a trip every book-lover should enjoy, set in a parallel world where reading books can actually become a paying job. "A Family of the Post-Apocalypse" follows the daily travails of people left behind after the rapture. The finest work, "The Owl and the Pussycat" begins as a sweet ode to stuffed animals, and becomes a devastatingly insightful look at family abuse.

Disch's passing is a tragedy, but here's hoping more readers seek him out in death.

Grade: A

Little Bee by Chris Cleave - review

Little Bee
by Chris Cleave
Bond Street Books, 288 pages, $29.95

In 2005, in a shocking coincidence, Chris Cleave’s debut novel, Incendiary, concerning a terrorist attack in London, was released on the exact same day as the infamous London bomb attacks. It was a powerful quirk of fate that somewhat overshadowed the novel’s very real accomplishments.

While uneven, Incendiary displayed a promising talent, especially in the British author’s evocation of incomprehensible loss in the shape of his unnamed narrator, a mother who lost her husband and son in the attack. Incendiary went on to win the 2006 Somerset Maugham Award and was shortlisted for the Commonwealth Writers’ Prize.

Cleave’s sophomore effort, Little Bee, has already been released in the U.K. (under the title The Other Hand) to resounding acclaim, and showcases his true gift at creating complex, realistic characters who are, regrettably, far stronger than the storyline they inhabit. For, despite the plaudits, Little Bee also abundantly displays what is shaping up to be Cleave’s Achilles heel in his stories; the weakness of his narrative framework.

Little Bee concerns two women, Little Bee and Sarah O’Rourke. Bee is a young Nigerian refugee who has spent two years in a British immigration removal centre. Bee has taught herself English, and as she asserts, “I am here to tell you a real story…I am a born-again citizen of the developing world.”

After Bee escapes, she tracks down Sarah, a British woman whom she met on a Nigerian beach under horrific circumstances. It would not do to spoil the entirety of the events, but as Bee tells it, each scream of her sister “was exactly the same, like a machine was making them.”

As with Incendiary, Cleave has taken great pains to ensure that Little Bee occurs in a world torn from today’s newspaper headlines. The removal centres of Britain are a disgraceful blight on the country’s reputation in the world, and they very much deserve dissection and examination.

Likewise, Little Bee proves Cleave excels at characterization. As was revealed in Incendiary’s protagonist (a woman who lost her husband and child in a terrorist bombing, and one of the finest, most fully-realized characters in recent fiction), Bee and Sarah are well-formed and intriguing women, full-bodied and breathing on the page.

Yet for all Cleave’s strengths, there is something inherently phony and overly calculated about Little Bee’s overall presentation. Despite it’s adherence to the realities of life in both England and Nigeria, and the contrast between the affluent British versus the desperate third-world refugees, there is a strained, crowd-pleasing aspect to the narrative that becomes increasingly off-putting. As with Incendiary, the plot often strains credulity in order to bring people together, allowing for convenient secondary characters who have connections to elements beyond the main protagonists' reach. As the coincidences clumsily pile up, it becomes readily apparent that Cleave may tenderly wield a scalpel with his characters, but he takes a sledgehammer approach to plot.

Too often, Cleave’s characters mouth platitudes such as “At some point you just have to turn around and face your life head-on,” and “Trouble is like the ocean. It covers two-thirds of the world.” Such truisms idealize Bee into an almost messianic figure of willful innocence, and undermine the novel’s efforts to portray the stark realism of her existence.

The didactic nature of Little Bee may serve to make the novel a staple of undemanding book clubs. The novel is eminently readable, populated by easy-to-like people, and culminating in an ending both tragic and feel-good.

Little Bee strives to be both hardened and heart-warming, gruesome yet quirky. There are ample qualities to recommend it as a worthwhile read, but Cleave’s lightweight packaging of his tale has to be considered a disappointment.

In honour of Darwin's birthday...

In honour of the 200th birthday of Charles Darwin, I present:

Austrolipcoreycus!
Thanks to Devolve Me for the fun.

Stay evolved, people.

Smells like newsprint and sunshine

Hey, what's your favourite scent? Mouldy novels? Dust? Silverfish? Well, prepare to have your aural senses delighted!

Presenting In the Library, a perfume specially designed to add just a touch of the glamour of working in the public library system to your everyday, humdrum rountine. Now, you, too, can smell like Nancy Pearl (or me, if you're into that [I know I am])!

From the site:

The Scent
English Novel taken from a Signed First Edition of one of my very favorite novels, Russian & Moroccan leather bindings, worn cloth and a hint of wood polish.
Don't you find there are few things more wonderful than the smell of a much-loved book? Newly printed books certainly smell very different from older ones. The ink is so crisp. I've also noticed that books from different periods & different countries also have very different smells. And then there are the scents of different bindings: leather is marvelous of course but I find a peculiar pleasure in musty worn clothbound books as well. Perhaps just a hint of mildew!

And no, this is not a joke. Smell like a library. Next up: the scent of a high-school gymnasium. Mmmm...sweaty.

I kid, of course, as I'd love to get a whiff of this. HINT: my birthday's in October.

Wanda, from the blog A Season to Read, has done me the pleasure of naming my little section of internet ramblings a 'fabulous' blog, and who am I to argue with good taste?

Of course, with recognition comes responsibility. Specifically, I am to name 5 of my addictions, and then tag 5 blog-pals to continue the meme.

So, 5 of my addictions:

1)  Caffeine

2)  Hawaiian pizza

3)  Fish paralyzers (to take the edge off)

4)  Lost/Twin Peaks (can't decide)

5)  Wasting time.

And 5 of my bloguddies:

T. Keith Edmunds

Matt Staggs

E. Ann Bardawill

Steve Zipp

Chrissy Calhoun